The ICU desk lights made everything look clean that wasn't. Ethan planted his hands on the counter.
“My daughter—Emma Thorn—was here tonight," he said. “I want her chart."
Harper, the charge nurse, didn't flinch. “The file is locked. VIP privacy."
“Unlock it."
“I don't have that access."
“Then get the person who does."
Dr. Patel stepped up beside Harper. “Mr. Thorn," she said. “I was Emma's attending."
His mouth worked around the word he feared. “Was."
Patel nodded once. “I'm sorry."
“Show me her record," he said, voice clipped into something that pretended to be business.
Harper stared at her screen. “Flag reads: authorized users only. Admin‑set."
An administrator in a blazer arrived at speed. “Kern, on‑call. We should speak—"
“Here," Ethan said. “My wife says someone moved ou
